


A Hole In The World

by Aretsuna



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Grant Ward is mentioned and nothing bad happens to him, Happy Ending, He’s still alive (and probably well) by the end, If you have any problems with that don’t read, Season 3 Speculation, Written before season 3, after Monolith, after season 2, but it's just a tiny mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-23 15:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4881721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aretsuna/pseuds/Aretsuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months after Simmons was swallowed (quite literally) by an alien rock, Fitz finally rescues her and everything is just as it used to be. But isn’t it too beautiful to be true? Simmons seems to be the same but she certainly is not. Quite literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fitz

_“I've been thinking about it. Maybe she did notice, and she just made excuses for herself not to have to deal with it. Or she came up with ways to explain it to herself.”_

_-Peter Bishop, Fringe 3x04 “Do Shapeshifters Dream of Electric Sheep?”_

* * *

Sometimes people overlooked such obvious things. Director Coulson, for example. He thought that he would be able to keep Fitz away from the Playground if he took his lanyard and keys away. He forgot that there was a time when Fitz was bored out of his mind and his hands were still not working properly, so he had nothing better to do than look at blueprints and schematics of the base. That then he spent a whole lot of time upgrading all the security mechanisms, devoting hours to try and figure out how to make them better after yet another tragedy of a mission.

You can’t take the keys from the architect. He has them imprinted in his blood and mind.

Giving himself an access point with a Mouse Hole, Fitz went through the secret entrance to the base for the first time in almost two months.

When Coulson told him he had to give up on trying to figure out the Monolith and bringing Jemma back, he just laughed at this joke of a possibility. They told him to move on, but how could he? How could he start working on anything different than finding a way to get Simmons out of this rock? What were they all thinking, that he would just forget and go back to designing weapons and robots? Back to standard S.H.I.E.L.D. missions and engineering? They couldn't understand. There was no way back.

It was hard to live when there was a hole in his world and nobody else cared. Nobody else wanted to help him with bringing her back. They gave up on her but he would be damned if he would. So he left and found another way.

Of course, there was the problem of getting around the base unnoticed. At first he thought he would do it on foot if necessary- just a long walk in a uniform made of anti-radar materials, it shouldn’t be that hard to obtain and make. But he was an engineer and there was always someone needing a fix or upgrade of something. S.H.I.E.L.D. was not the only organisation with resources. There were others willing to give him a ride and allow him  access to labs and whatever he needed in exchange for some of his help. After the first fiasco in negotiations (how was he supposed to know that they meant heavy artillery, all he signed for was building engines for ships. Why would the mafia pretend to be a legal business?) he chose his partners more carefully and after a while found a bank in a small country full of mountains that was more than happy to give him access to the best labs in exchange for an innovative alarm system.

And now, here he was, back in the Playground, walking down the corridors in silence with just a small suitcase in his hand and a gun at his belt.

He should have at least 15 minutes before his device would stop looping the footage from security cameras and someone would notice that they had an intruder in the base. That should be more than enough.

This might have been a desperate attempt, but he was way past desperation a long while ago. Now he had to take his chances before it was too late.

Hoping that Coulson hadn't thought about moving the Monolith, he threw the warning tape away and opened the door. There it was. The source of all this. The ‘Space Rock of Doom'. Praying that his hands wouldn’t shake and ruin his chances, he quickly opened the glass cage and then his suitcase, and connected his device with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s equipment and powered it all up.

12 seconds, just as calculated. He should make it in time.

There was a whizzing sound and the smell of electrostatic. Then the solid stone of the Monolith changed into fluid and disintegrated between him and his device, only to leave the body of Jemma Simmons on the floor and integrate into a solid monolith again.

_It worked._

For a second he still couldn't believe that it worked, after all his failed attempts, after all he'd gone through, after everything, after three months, it finally _worked_.

He ran to her, checked her breathing and caught her arms, holding her up and checking for injuries.

"Jemma?" He called her, hoping that she would open her eyes. "Jemma, it's me. Can you hear me?"

"Fitz?" She murmured while opening her eyes. "What's-"

"You were inside a rock, I pulled you out," he explained, knowing that it sounded ridiculous. "Listen, we don't have much time. Can you sit?"

"I... I think so,"she said in a weak voice, trying to lift herself, her movements sloppy like she was not used to moving her muscles anymore.

"Good," he said urgently, knowing that they had less and less time left. "They will notice we are here soon, we have to move. We can go to my lab in Europe or do you want to stay with S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Your lab?"

"Well, yes,” he said cursing that they hadn’t have enough time for him to explain it all properly. “About that... I kind of don't work for S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore."

"What?" She suddenly seemed alert.

"I had to quit," he explained looking nervously at the door. "I shouldn't be here, so unless you want to stay here, we better move now, before they find us," he urged.

"I have to stay," she told him immediately. "I have to stay in here."

"Okay then," he nodded. This was the harder option, but he wouldn’t argue with her, not now, not about this.

"But... Will you stay here with me?" she asked with eyes full of confusion and  uncertainty.

"Yes," he nodded again. "Yes, of course I will stay with you," he promised and moved some loose hair from her face, "Don't worry, Coulson won't be mad for long after he sees that I was right."

"Right about what?" she asked tilting her head.

"That you are not gone."

They sat there for a moment in silence, him content that they were finally back together, her still a little dazzled and lost. A while later a team of agents found them both curled on the floor next to the Monolith.

* * *

Coulson was furious, not only because Fitz broke into the base but also because he broke into quarantine and "experimented without supervision or backup on a dangerous 0-8-4". Fitz didn’t regret any of this even for a moment, which was not helping his case. After a lot of talks and way too many hours locked inside the vault, he was finally let out with a temporary S.H.I.E.L.D. lanyard and a metal bracelet on his wrist, the same kind Skye had to use a long while ago with a bonus tracker. In theory he was allowed to work in the lab but only with Mack supervising and looking at his hands. Coulson was way too sensitive about treason, even though in Fitz’s opinion, it was the Director that was betraying S.H.I.E.L.D. ideas when he wrote Simmons down as MIA. Coulson soon agreed that Fitz's behaviour may not be excused, but might be understood and so he offered the engineer a second chance, which Fitz accepted hoping that this way he would not only be able to see Simmons sooner, but also to work with her again, like in good old times. Maybe this way everything would be fixed sooner rather than later.

They were working together in a lab, surrounded by a mass of people who were trying to pretend they were not spying on them. Fitz couldn't blame them, not really. He was a risk and Simmons was back to working way too soon for his comfort. That was just like her to pretend that everything was fine when she should be resting and trying to get back on track.

She didn't want to talk about the monolith. She didn't ask what he was doing during that three months they were separated. She just came to the lab every morning, working on whatever Coulson gave her with focus and effectiveness that was surprising for Fitz. Yes, he was expecting her to try to get back to working as soon as possible and pretend everything was fine, but he wasn't expecting her to actually behave like everything was fine, like this whole Rock thing never happened. But that was exactly what she did; she was so much like the old Simmons that he found it hard to believe. Even harder was accepting that she might have changed enough to lie well enough to fool even him. The only exception from her too good behaviour was when they found themselves alone in the kitchen and she was thanking him for rescuing her and he always apologising to her that it took him so long, and yet even though it was all as could be expected there was something lacking, some spark in her eyes that was too dim, words too correct and pretty, something that reminded him that there was still a topic they should stop avoiding.

He managed to hold it for two days after he was out of the vault before he asked her about their dinner.

"Dinner?" she asked a little surprised, not tearing her eyes away from her tablet when they were sitting together in the kitchen, sipping their teas.

"Yes. I thought that, well, since we... we couldn't go last time, maybe we could go somewhere now. Someday. If you want to, that is."

"Oh," she stopped looking at the screen and moved her eyes to his tea instead, tilting her head a little. "Well, that... That sounds lovely," she said finally in a voice that seemed a little flat to him. He really should keep his insecurities in check. "Today?" she proposed looking at him.

"Sure," he nodded, surprised that it could happen so fast. "If that's what you want. Are you sure you're ready to go out so fast? Maybe you want to rest for a while longer, stay in the base?" he asked, wanting to make sure that she was not pushing herself like she did every hour of every day in the lab. "Or we could make this dinner in here if you would like that better?" It was strange and so unlike them, the way he couldn't gauge her thoughts by her body language, not having a clue what her response would be.

"No, I'm perfectly fine," she assured him with a slight, calming wave of her hand. "We could go to some Italian place nearby, it doesn't have to be far away," she assured him.

He wasn't sure if that was a good idea, but since he was still unable to believe that she even agreed to their dinner three months ago, it wasn't looking so bad. Not bad at all.

It was looking pretty bad when he was fumbling in his room, first with the buttons of his shirt, then with his tie, regretting that he hadn’t put one on in such a long while - he could certainly use more practice in tying it. Finally he was ready and was trying desperately to calm his nerves, knowing that they wouldn't do any good. He was pacing back and forth waiting for Jemma to appear so that he could take her for their dinner. When she finally came with a small smile on her face, her hair all curly and bright, her eyes pointed at him with curiousity, looking lovely in her dress. Her standard "first-date" dress, he noted with a sting of surprise, which in turn surprised him even more. Why would he expect her to wear something different? Jemma loved order and following rules, and when she was nervous she always escaped into routines and patterns. He smiled back at her - after all, always trying to stick to logic and reason, even in matters of the heart, sounded just like Simmons.

The restaurant wasn't far - he didn't want it to be, not when Jemma was back only for a few days and there was still way too many questions without answers about what happened to her. For her safety it would be better if they stay close to the base. Just in case. It was just a small place where they could sit and spend a little time together in peace. It was not posh or romantic or stylish, it was like none of the places on the list he’d prepared months ago, but it had to do for now. They were sitting there, eating food that was not as great as he wished it was, talking mostly about work and science that somehow was incapable of bringing the spark it usually did in Jemma's eyes, not when she was obviously still tired. Tired or bored. He was trying not to let bad thoughts ruin the evening but he still couldn't help the occasional thought that if it was not for his stuttering, the conversation would be going much more smoothly and that Jemma was deserving of something better than that, better than his trembling hands and tangled mind. They didn't stay for long, and the ride back was full of silence and secret glances full of mystery and hidden meaning that they were both stealing. Somehow this only made him more uncertain about what was going on and whether things were going smoothly between them. It used to be so easy. Even when they were at odds, he was still able to read her enough, but somehow now, with the dinner and date setting, she transformed into a pure enigma

Back in the Playgroud they walked through the silent corridors, Fitz escorting Simmons back to her room, having no idea what to do when they got there. He was hoping for the whole evening that Jemma would give him a clue to whatever she was expecting, or maybe they would talk about it, but nothing like that happened and now here he was, getting closer and closer, and soon he would have to make a decision and take some action.

The door was there and they both stopped and stared at the wood for a second. Finally Simmons turned back to him.

"It was a really nice and lovely evening," she said with a pleasant smile, tilting her head a little to the left.

He couldn't see her eyes hidden behind hair and driven by an impulse he reached and moved it away, hoping they would add some meaning and context to her words. She smiled at him even more and he decided that that was it, the moment when everything would become clear. Win or lose. He moved closer and bent a little, slow enough for her to move her head and decide where his lips would land - on her cheek or lips. She moved her head abruptly away from him so fast that she hit the door frame.

"Sorry," he mumbled while moving away, angry at himself for ruining everything. He should have been more careful, he should have kept it slow, he should have been more patient with these delicate threads that just begun to reconnect them both. "I'm so-sorry, I shouldn't have... I should..." he stuttered trying to find the right words, something that would fix this, but he couldn't find anything so he was just stepping back, away from her. "I better just go." He gave up and turned away, going through the corridor in fast steps, back to his room, cursing himself in his mind over and over for being so stupid and ruining everything. Again.

"Fitz!” He heard her calling him and running after him. A few seconds later there was her hand at his arm tugging him to turnand look at her. He complied. “I... I need more time,” she said with a sad and lost look in her eyes. “Please. It's not about me changing my mind or anything, it's... this rock and everything is happening so fast, I... I just need some more time. Please wait for me just a little while longer,” she pleaded. “Give me... two weeks to.. to come back to myself. Please."

He was staring at her, not really understanding the reasons and implications, but she was asking and so he agreed. He would give her all the time she needed.

* * *

It was getting harder and harder to deal with Simmons behaving like everything was fine and even harder to deal with his own helplessness. He wanted to help her, he wanted to make it easier for her, but he couldn’t find anything in which he could make himself useful. He was going through her tests results over and over hoping to find something in them that would help him understand what happened during the last three months,trying to figure out what he missed and what else he could do, asking for another fruitless test like checking her eyes or comparing her DNA to the previous one. All of them indicated the same things: Simmons was completely healthy and perfectly normal. She still hadn’t said a thing and he wouldn’t dare to push, only hoping that she knew what she was doing. He could see Coulson watching her with distrust, May handling her gently like she might explode any second and Skye stubbornly trying to be cheerful. He wondered if he was treating Simmons differently and his constant looking after her was irritating her too. It was impossible for him to stop though. There was this tiny part of him screaming louder and louder that something was wrong, something had to be wrong because people don’t just emerge from rocks feeling better than before.

It was a few days after their awkward first date when he couldn’t silence his doubt anymore. They were walking back to their rooms from the lab, Simmons once again saying that a movie night sounded lovely but she was too tired for one now. It was acceptable, sure, but somehow it was another drop in the “things that seemed reasonable but still strange” cup, and he saw her eyes smiling without any of the warmth he got so used to over the years and for once instead of pushing his doubts away he saw the whole picture and just said what he was afraid of this whole time.

“You’re not Jemma.”

She looked at him, suddenly pale, and for once instead of doing as expected and denying it, she stared at him, her eyes clearly saying that he caught her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is a reference to Angel (15th episode of season 5), but don’t worry, there’s no character death tag since there’s no need for one.
> 
> There’s a tiny Fringe reference in this chapter (and it’s not the title), high five to anyone who can find it ;)  
> 


	2. Illya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the person who emerged from the Monolith is not Simmons, then who it is?

_“I can't answer that.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because there is no answer. It's a mathematical problem without a solution.”_

_-Astrid and Oliva, Fringe 3x03 "The Plateau"_

* * *

 Fitz was looking at her, realisation written on his face so clearly, that there was no doubt he saw right through her. How could that happened? She was sure she behaved perfectly normal, each of her actions was exactly what Simmons would do if she were the one facing the situation. Well, not all of them; there was this one tiny exception, but it was too marginal to give him enough evidence.

This whole mission was far more complicated than expected. She had to make things simpler. Solve one problem at a time. Starting with the one standing in front of her with wide eyes and a pale face.

He asked a question. She had to answer.

“No, I’m not. Not exactly,” she admitted. There was no possibility of denying it now.

“Do-don’t hurt her,” Fitz said, his stuttering more prominent when his nerves took over.

She furrowed brows that were not exactly hers. She should be careful about those habits of the vessel. There was no reason for following them now that he knew, but yet here she was, doing things without thinking, just because this human body decided it was a good idea. She was getting impulsive and this wouldn’t get her anywhere.

“I won’t,” she tried to assure him. “I have every intention of keeping my vessel in perfect shape.”

"Vessel? Jemma's not- not a thing! Who are you?!" He demanded taking a step back.

"Simmons refers to me as 'Illya'," she told him, not really sure how to answer that. Humans held names important, she knew this much, so maybe if she gave him one, it would calm him down and help her gain his trust.

"Refers? Not referred?" He asked in a whisper, a tiny bit of hope flashing on his face.

 _Subtext_. She had to deal with tons of that lately; humans seemed to love hinting things without explicitly stating them. It was a little like riddles and she'd always enjoyed them, but with the amount she had to endure lately, it seemed more like unnecessary obstacles than fun.

“There’s an implication in this question that’s not clear to me,” she admitted. No time for games, she had a problem to solve.

“You said that in present tense,” he said, his hands trembling and his eyes looking around. “She’s still alive? Where is she?” He was getting angry now, words escaping his mouth faster and faster, his hands curling into fists, indication of possible aggressive behaviour. “What have you done to her?! What are you?!”

She was just looking at him, not knowing which question to answer first.

“You’re a clone?” Fitz asked taking a shallow breath.

“No. This body is an original.”

“Where’s Jemma?”

“Here,” she shrugged. He was supposed to be intelligent, why was he asking all those senseless questions? Getting used to the limited knowledge of those around her was challenging; she kept forgetting that they didn’t have access to all the data she had and they had to operate with such limited knowledge.

“What have you done to her?! Let her go!” Apparently her plan of calming him down was not working.

“No.” She shook her head.

“You can’t?”

“I can. But I won’t.”

“You have to!” Fitz’s eyes were so intense, as if he wanted to set her on fire. “You have to or.. or I will get her out. We all will. We will find a way,” he mumbled, stealing a glance at the corridor behind her.

 _He was going to tell Coulson_ , it occurred to her.

She couldn’t let him, that would make things way more difficult for her. She had to stop him. Now, before it could get too complicated.

There was a fire extinguisher on the wall just a few steps away. She could grab it and swing it at his head, should be enough to knock him out. Though that would create a problem of explaining his disappearance to the rest of the team without rising suspicions and it would make him less prone to cooperate in the future, when she could really use some help from him. There was also the matter of Simmons screaming inside her head to _leave him alone and not hurt him, especially not his head, he suffered enough_ , echoing over and over, like a madness mantra.

This solution would make the situation more complicated instead of simpler, she had to think of something else. Strangling him would make him unconscious without the head injury, but just the thought made the chaos inside Simmons' head even worse. Illya wouldn't be able to complete the mission while fighting with her vessel all the time, this much was certain. She had to come up with something else and fast. Fitz was not standing there idly, he would take action soon. Knocking him out would work well in short term but terribly in long term, so she had to do something that would stop him from tangling her plans and at the same time convince him to actually help her along.

There was one thing that might work, but Illya was determined to avoid it as long as possible - it could be a straight way to madness and that could ruin her mission.

Great, now Fitz was obviously looking around to search for a weapon. This would end in tragedy if she didn’t find a solution soon.

 _“Simmons,”_ she broke her resolution and called the vessel within the head they were sharing. _“I'll let you take over for a second, convince him not to tell anybody and help me, so that I don’t have to hurt him.”_

It was as humiliating as she predicted it to be, having to ask for help, but it seemed as the most reasonable course of action and she would do anything necessary to complete her task.

 _"What?"_ Simmons voice sounded surprised with the realisation that not only Illya could hear her but also talk with her.

_“You have two minutes. Convince him or I’m knocking him out.”_

_“Don't you dare hurt him,”_ Simmons reminded her.

 _“He won’t be hurt, he wouldn’t be operational for a while. Long enough to not disturb my mission if necessary. I’m capable of doing it without doing permanent damage. I'd rather not, so you better convince him,”_ she said letting the real owner of this vessel take control and regain her body for a moment.

This was a strange sensation and she hated it. Being trapped and chained in this vessel, now without any influence on what's going around her, made her anxious even though she knew it was just temporary.

 _It was all just temporary_ , she reminded herself while watching through Simmons’ eyes how she tried to convince Fitz. This was not something Illya could calculate or do on her own. She wouldn't think of putting hands on Fitz's cheeks and looking him straight in the eyes repeating _"it's me"_ (well, she couldn't say that anyway, since it was not exactly her) and _"trust me"_ along with some other, more logical arguments. How could she predict this course of action when never before had something similar happened? Not enough data. But there seemed to be some correlation between this behaviour and the engineer's willingness to listen and cooperate, and somehow he seemed to believe Simmons more than her. Another mystery.

And now they were hugging. Why did humans insist on such a vast amount of body contact in communication? But Fitz clearly was on their side now, and that was a huge relief.

 _"Come on, time's almost up,"_ she nagged the vessel.

"Just a minute," Simmons mumbled into Fitz's neck.

 _"I said two minutes,"_ she reminded her. _"I can't hang in here for longer, you have to back down,"_ she insisted.

"Just a sec," Simmons tightened her arms around Fitz.

 _"I can't wait longer,"_ she pushed. _"Do you want to end the deal?"_

Simmons was silent for a second.

 _"No,"_ she admitted to her. She moved a few inches away from Fitz. "She can't lie," she told him fast. "She can be here only for two weeks, then she will be gone. If not, do something,” she added rubbing his arm gently. “And keep something silver on you, just in case," she added as if an afterthought.

 _"I'm not a vampire Simmons!"_ Illya hissed while taking over control and getting a little stiff in the uncomfortable hug Fitz was holding her in.

“I’m back,” she told him and tried to wrestle out of his grip. There was no need for this act anymore.

Fitz let her go, his face pale and sad.

* * *

Humans were, without a doubt, strange creatures. Both her vessel and this engineer were scientists, and as such were supposed to, by social standards alone, be reasonable beings, who based their decisions and actions on logic.

They were not.

Things around her were getting more and more unnecessarily complicated mostly because people insisted on not behaving in predactible, logical ways. This started to irritate Illya, and the realisation of that irritated her even more. Stupid chemicals circling in the vessel’s bloodstream were now not only affecting Simmons’ perception, but also influencing her own behaviour. It was hard to pinpoint it, but for one she was unable to feel irritation before. Tiredness, satisfaction or lack of it, responsibility, yes, but not irritation or joy or impatience or this insects crawling in her insides whenever Fitz smiled. What kind of reaction chain was that? And what was its purpose? It didn’t make sense to her no matter how long she thought about it.

One good thing that came from Fitz discovering the truth was how freeing it was for her - no need for all those meaningless tiny things, like thinking of excuses to get rid of watching movies in the evening, or smiling at him when they were working alone, or brushing his arm when they were walking on the corridors. Now she could be herself. As herself as it was possible while chained in this material world, but still that was something.

Illya knew it was a bad idea to call Simmons for help back, but there was simply no better option for her. Now, just a day later, Simmons was talking to her all the time, constantly trying to chit-chat about meaningless things. Logically she could understood that - Simmins probably was bored, it wasn’t like she had much to do. Well, she had absolutely _nothing_ to do, to say the truth. But after a few days she was not only trying to chat with Illya, she was also trying to read her thoughts or at least guess them, constantly asking if she was right. It was maddening.

Fitz on the other hand was mostly silent. He hadn't told anyone, that much was certain, but he was constantly watching her every move like a hawk, just waiting for her to give him any reason to take more drastic actions. The atmosphere in the lab would be hard to bear for any human. But she wasn't human and as long as he was not an obstacle, she couldn't care less for his silent treatment. Simmons unfortunately did, and was clearly affected by it. Illogical again, but Illya just had to deal with that.

 _"You're ruining everything!"_ Simmons whined in the morning when Illya was working in the lab and didn’t bother reacting when Fitz entered the room.

 _“I saved you,”_ Illya reminded her, focusing on her experiment. It was about fish oil. According to her previous calculations, that would be very important in the near future. _“You should be grateful.”_

_“I am. But you are still ruining everything."_

_"I'm doing what I'm supposed to do."_ She tried to defend herself, wondering why she even bothered. Everything was so much easier when Simmons was not speaking.

_"We were on a good road with Fitz and now you are just destroying it all!"_

_"What do you want me to do? It was you who didn't want the kiss after the date, I told you it was against probability,"_ she hissed trying to not lose her concentration on the probe she was working on.

_“That would be cheating. He wouldn't kiss you if he knew who you really are."_

_"But he didn't. He thought it was you."_

_"But it wasn't me! It was you and that didn't feel right,"_ Simmons added in a lower voice. _"That wouldn't be fair. I don't want our first kiss to be like that."_

 _"Technically it would be ours not your first kiss,_ " Illya pointed out. _"You just said so."_

_"Doesn't matter! You shouldn't have even gone on this date in the first place, it wasn't for you!"_

_"That would have made him more suspicious. Or he would start thinking that you don't want this anymore. How would that be better?"_

Judging by the silence that fell after that, Simmons had to admit that Illya was right.

 _"I did the best I could,”_ Illya reminded her. _“I ran after him and told him to wait until it is over. What are you so angry about?"_

 _"You're not supposed to be so cold to him,"_ Simmons pointed out.

_"He knows I'm not you, there's no point. What do you want me to do?"_

Another silence. She knew pretty well that there was no right answer to that question.

 _“He’s taking more meds now,"_ Simmons pointed out after a moment, apparently not able to stop talking. _"He was getting better before I disappeared and now he’s back to taking more of them.”_

 _“Probably because of exhaustion and stress,”_ Illya shrugged.

 _"You think he got worse?"_ There was concern and worry in Simmons’ voice.

_"Not worse than he could have, that's for sure."_

_"That's what you keep saying. There's no proof."_

“Fitz,” Illya asked, rolling her eyes. Why humans insisted on analysing details that were not crucial? Especially when there was absolutely no way for them to know all the necessary data. “What happened five days after Simmons disappeared?”

“You mean five days after you kidnapped her?” And they insisted on this sort of behaviour. Illya supposed he tried to make her feel guilty or ashamed with that comment. Why couldn’t he understand that trying to make her _feel_ anything was pointless?

“Yes. That.”

“Coulson wanted to send me on a mission, I declined. That was our first real argument about all this. In the end I didn’t go and lucky me - it appeared to be a trap.”

 _“Told you so,”_ she whispered to Simmons.

 _“You haven’t predicted that he would notice you’re not me,”_ Simmons pointed out.

_“Small aberration. I operate in tolerance of errors around 2%; this was within the border. I can't predict results of my own actions; that would be impossible. I can’t predict every tiny detail, some of them have to be moved to the side as unimportant for the whole plan. The universe will find the way to come back to it’s track.”_

_“Then what’s the point of you?”_ Simmons hissed.

 _“That shouldn’t be your concern.”_ Illya cut the conversation when she dropped the beaker. Apparently, now she was able to experience anger first hand too.

* * *

Coulson trusted her more and more with each passing day. Illya estimated that just two days more and he would let her work with what she really wanted - the Inhumans DNA. It should be enough. One or one and a half of a day more, and she would have everything she would need, then she would just have to convince him to let her go in the field or escape from the Playground if he didn’t agree. The transportation may become a problem then. She could take a flight probably, and than a train and a taxi, but Simmons wouldn’t be able to afford it from her savings and besides, that would be stealing. Maybe Fitz would give her some money? Or give her a ride with a little help from his new friends?

“You keep tilting your head to the left when you are thinking” Fitz noticed, looking at her with sharp eyes from his desk.

“Oh.” Illya never noticed. Probably another reflex of the vessel. “Simmons had this habit?”

“No. Actually it’s a primitive instinct. A way to get more stimuli. We don’t really… follow it anymore.”

“Oh,” she said quietly. Apparently controlling the vessel’s body was not getting easier with time, quite the opposite.

"So, are you enjoying being in... Well, here?" Fitz asked.

"I think that there's a high probability that I will end up mentally ill," she admitted.

He laughed as if that was a joke, but calmed down when he saw her serious expression.

"Hmm, so you don't like it?"

"Of course not! If I were meant to be trapped inside a material vessel I would have my own! Just because I'm capable of something doesn't mean it's my dream to do so. Believe me, I'm as happy about all this as Simmons is."

“So, you don’t usually have a, um, material form?” he pushed, using the fact that she said too much.

“Why are you asking?”

“Just curious,” he lied.

“You won’t be able to understand who I am even if I explain it to you.”

“You could try and check,” he answered stubbornly.

“I can,” she nodded because that was truth. “But your mind doesn’t have schemes developed enough, or even words, that could describe it. It would be like trying to explain advanced physics to someone who doesn’t know integrals. All you can do is follow the pattern and learn it by heart, without comprehending.”

“You can still try.” Really, his stubbornness was stalling them both and she had work to do if she wanted to convince Coulson. But there was something warm in it, something she couldn’t name or comprehend. It made her confused over the influence the material vessel, with hormones and other chemical compounds, had on her and how it was all reacting to him.

“I am... I am, for simplifying things, a force that makes sure that things don’t fall apart. Important things. I’m in charge of maintenance, if you will”

"Well, that's a lot of big words that don't explain anything."

She looked at him for a moment. She missed times when she was back home, when she hadn’t had to explain anything because it was simply understood. When others knew her and simply trusted her because they knew she was simply her. Now she had to twist her knowledge and put it into words simple enough for a human to understand and make sure they sounded convincing.

"I'm a kid who broke a vase and tries to fix it before her parents are back. Does that carry more meaning for you?" she tried. Surely this sentence should be easy enough for him.

“What did you break? Is that the reason why you are here?”

“I have a mission. There’s a hole in the world and I have to fix it,” she said while closing her eyes with irritation, cursing herself for giving away too much again. Will she ever get rid of these sensations? “Now, if you excuse me, I have work to do. My mission won’t complete itself.”

“Sure.” Fitz nodded. “But you are aware that even if you put the vase back together, there will still be cracks on it?”

* * *

“What are you working on?” Illya asked Fitz the next day, curious and bored. Another new experience.

“Nothing,” he said, clearly lying.

She looked at his screen.

“Oh,” she murmured with surprise. “You’re trying to build the Blue Field.”

“Actually it’s quan-”

“No, it’s the Blue Field. It was discovered in some other worlds already.” She shook head. “You’re trying to find a way to force me out of this body.” Somehow admitting it hurt more than she expected. She should have predicted that. Why hadn’t she predicted that?

“You’re going to stop me?” he challenged.

“No. This technology is years beyond this world. Even if you manage to come up with a theoretical idea, and the probability of that is 61% with normal circumstances, 87% given your current motivation, you won’t find tools to implicate it and build the device.” Now the calculations were clear and obvious for her. Why weren’t they before? Why was she so surprised, and even worse, what was this sting of hurt in her chest implicating? “The worst you can do with it is hitting me in the head with the Nobel Prize.” She looked at the screen again, a little closer this time. “You made a mistake in the calculations. Here,” she pointed to the screen. “Besides, I will be gone in eight days at most,” she added.

“That’s what you keep saying.” He didn’t look convinced.

“Because it’s true,” she signed. “Listen. I have a feeling that both you and Simmons think that living like this is my dream come true. This body,” she waved at her vessel. “Evolved for thousands of years to make living in this world as smoothly as possible. It didn’t evolve for it to be shared by two consciousness and be controlled by an outside power. Every second I have to control every atom to do what it should be doing so that everything is functioning well. A body is not a car, you can’t just switch drivers. I’m using 90% of my power just on keeping myself in here and making blood run and give oxygen to the cells and all those other things you don’t even have to think about, all the while fighting with all those hormones and emotions that try to affect me. I can’t wait for it to be over as much as you. I would really appreciate some help instead of constant stabbing in the back.” She waved at the monitor and stormed out of the room.

It took her a while of pacing inside Simmons’ room to notice that she just used the word “feeling” as a part of the argument. She had less time left than she thought.

* * *

 _Soon it will be over_ , she tried to convince herself the next day. Coulson let her experiment on DNA samples of a new Inhuman, and after a little bit of begging, Skye let her take a look at hers too. It took her just a day to make something that would be necessary in her mission.

Soon. Soon she would be out. Although Illya had to admit that after all this time she had gotten used to some aspects of operating from inside the vessel. Some of the food was pleasantly reacting with the tongue for example. There were some sequences of sounds that made muscles twitch and urged the body to sway. There was also this nice flutter in the stomach when she saw Fitz or when he was close. Not to mention how engrossing looking at him was - his hands and eyes were intriguing and appeared to create some kind of field that was attracting her closer.

 _"Are you hitting on my boyfriend?"_ Simmons said, the accusation clear in her voice.

 _"He's not your boyfriend,_ " Illya pointed out.

 _"Are you hitting on my almost-boyfriend?"_ Simmons was clearly decided on not letting this one go.

_"I am not, I'm just observing."_

_"Well, I would strongly appreciate if you observe someone else."_

_"Like Mack or Hunter? Fitz might think it's you, since I have no emotions, and get jealous over it,"_ Illya said becuase it was quite probable and she hoped that Simmons would give up on trying to distract her.

There was a few seconds of blessed silence.

 _“You are joking!”_ Simmons noticed with surprise.

 _“I am not. Shut up,”_ she grunted with shame.

This whole body business was more dangerous than she predicted. She had to act faster. She had a world to save and she had to deal with two scientists who were too dumb to realise they loved each other for 10 years, how crazy was that? No wonder they were not helpful at all.

* * *

Illya was happy when she heard that Coulson was sending her into field with Fitz. This would simplify everything and she was really fed up with complications. It was high time for something to actually work the way she would like it to.

The mission was not hard - it was about getting a weapon before Hydra beat them to that, so nothing she couldn’t handle. She even made sure to keep Fitz in a relatively safe zone. There was a gunshot though, and Simmons was obnoxious ever since she saw Ward on one of the monitors.

 _“You have to go after him!”_ She shouted at Illya over and over. _“I failed at ending him once and look how that ended! I can’t let him run away again. Ward deserves to die!”_

 _“Yes, the probability of that is very high,”_ Illya admitted. _“But I’m neither judge nor executor, so it’s not up to me to make him die. He will, when it’s his time. Besides, I have my task.”_

_“He’s dangerous! You should do something good and make him disappear from this world.”_

_“No.”_

_“But the next bad thing he does will be on me if I won’t stop him!”_

_“No. It will be on him.”_

_“You!... You idiot! You have to do this! You have to make it right or let me do this!”_

_“I won’t, and even if I could do that, I have other priorities right now.”_

_“What can be more important than that?!”_

_“And here I was, thinking that you learned something during those three months.”_ Illya sighed while she was walking down the stairs and carefully avoiding any Hydra troops, glad that her abilities came in handy.

Simmons nagged her for a while but Illya didn’t let it stop her. She turned away from the corridor Ward was in, and went ahead, took a few turns only to finally arrive at her destination.

“Mack?” she called and noticed him on the floor, just a few steps away from her. She got closer and bent over him. “Are you okay?”

“I got shot,” he muttered holding onto his arm. She noticed the blood sweeping from the wound.

“Hold on, I’ve got a med kit.” She reached inside it to start treating his wound. “We will patch you up in a sec, just hold on. You’ll live.”

Simmons was silent.

It was on the next day, when Illya checked on Mack in the hospital room and then Fitz thanked her for saving his friend, that Simmons quietly said that maybe she indeed made a good choice.

Illya just nodded, too busy with planning her two last days in this world.

The mission was still not completed, and tomorrow she had an even more important field mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illya's name is a reference to Illyria character from "Angel" as well as Irisviel von Einzbern from "Fate/Zero" whose daughter was named Illyasviel, in short Illya.
> 
> Please, don't get your expectation about “the mission” too high, I'd hate to disappoint and it's a Fitzsimmons fic, not Illya story so I won't focus on it more than necessary. I just hope you will be surprised - that was my aim ;)
> 
> The Fringe reference in this and previous chapter is head tilting- that's what Observers did and it is a "primitive instinct that humans moved beyond long ago" as said Nina Sharp.
> 
> Thanks for reading! There's a correlation between feedback and motivation (not that I'm a kudos/comment terrorist, just stating facts ;)


	3. Simmons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some answers!

  _“I'm sorry, my responses are limited. You must ask the right question.”_

_“Whose revolution?”_

_“That, detective, is the right question. Program terminated.”_

_\- Dr. Lanning's Hologram and Detective Del Spooner “I, Robot”_

* * *

**_Over three months ago_ **

Life was a Wheel of Fortune. There were ups and downs, and the last months were just a long line of down, down, down; straight to the bottom in constant fear of how painful the final crash would be. Simmons couldn’t even point to when it all started. When Ward dropped her and Fitz to the bottom of the ocean? When he betrayed them all? When Hydra came into the light? Or maybe even before, when she was pushing Fitz to move from Sci-Ops? Maybe that was it; not a real fall, but a slight slip that started her slide down. But that didn’t matter, not anymore. Jemma smiled to herself, looking at the door that closed just a second ago. Now her wheel was finally turning for better. It was the start of a way up. She not only got her best friend back but also made sense of her own feeling and even had a date. _With Fitz._ Just the thought made the corner of her lips turn upwards. Barely holding her giddy smile, she went to put the device she was holding back on the table, wondering what kind of place he would choose for them. Something romantic, or more cozy and plain? European or Asian? There was a lot to do in lab, but she could postpone most of the tasks for tomorrow, just do the absolutely necessary ones and be done with it as soon as possible. And then they would go for a dinner.

A dinner that meant so much more.

Her eye caught sight of the Monolith's cage, seeing the door that to her surprise, was open. Sighing, she came closer to lock it, wanting nothing more than to finish her work.

There was a movement, too fast to really react, and she was on the run, screaming, falling to the floor, her nails scratching it in a desperate search for something to hold onto when she was dragged back by some force. No time for any thought apart from basic instinct that told her to fight, to scream for help.

There was a hole in the world and it was sucking her into darkness.

Then she was surrounded by black, some strange sound all around her and she was falling even though there was nothing around her, no up or down. Maybe it was not her who was falling, but the world around her crashing and whirling.

An abrupt stop squeezed her insides, and for a moment she thought she would throw up from the sudden halt. Or maybe it was everything around her that stabilised. The perspective was all tricky and she couldn’t figure it out. She tried to move and saw her hands changing positions, just how she wanted them to, but she couldn't feel the pressure of air on her skin when they did, or hear the whoosh of air that she breathed in and out, couldn't even say if the temperature was low or high. There was nothing around her, absolute nothingness and she suddenly realised that she shouldn't be able to see her body, not in this darkness. Something was wrong, very very wrong and she looked around in panic not knowing what to do.

 _Calm down,_ she heard, but there was no voice, no sound at all, so she couldn't hear it, not really. Looking around in sudden fear mixed with anxiety she tried to find something, anything, that would help her understand what was happening around her when her senses were clearly falling.

_Calm down._

Again, the silent voice, this time more insistent. Simmons took a deep breath, trying not to dwell on the oxygen problem. Her lungs were clearly functioning, so there had to be air in here, even if she couldn’t feel it. Calming down sounded like a good idea. Clearing her head, analysing what happened, finding a solution. She remembered being next to the Monolith, then something happened, something caught her and now she was... _Here._ Now she had to focus on how to get back?  There must have been something, anything she could do!

_Listen._

There was something in here. Hiding in the darkness, where she couldn't see, but she could still hear it. Simmons curled her hands into fists, feeling the adrenaline pumping in her veins, straight to her muscles, preparing her to fight or run from the unknown danger.

_I am not the enemy._

"Where are you?!" she shouted into darkness, looking around, searching for the source. All in vain. "Show yourself!"

Light burst right into her eyes, blinding her for a moment and forcing her to cover her face with her arm. When she blinked and dared to look again, the light was less bright, just enough of it to let her see a person standing in front of her.

It was a woman, much younger than her, wearing a white lab coat and glasses, wavy dark hair tied at the back of her head and freckles covering her face.

"Who are you?!" Simmons asked, abruptly moving back. "Why am I here?"

"I moved you here," came the answer in a quiet, emotionless voice that didn't suit the girl at all.

Nothing fit. This lack of any senses, this girl in the middle of nowhere, her way too normal look and her lab coat with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s academy logo on it.

"You are with S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Simmons asked looking at the symbol.

"No. This is not my body. This is the form that is the easiest for you to understand. But it’s just an optical illusion,” came the clarification.

"Easiest to understand? A girl in a lab coat? With glasses? Really?"

"You and she had classes together, back in the Academy. You've never interacted but you caught her image with your eyes and it was saved in your brain. Deep enough for you to not recognise it, clear enough for me to use. I wanted to look normal and I thought that using Fitz's or your parents’ look wouldn't convince you."

“What?!” Simmons couldn’t comprehend anything that she heard. It just didn’t make sense. “Who are you? Why are you hiding your own look?" She returned to more pressing matters.

"Because I don't have a look,” the illusion replied trying to move closer, but Simmons just took another step back. “You need  a material form for that and I don't have one. That's why I had to use the Monolith."

"Let me out," Simmons demanded, lifting her fists, more because of an instinct than because she planned anything.

"Not yet," another calm reply.

"I have to go back!"

"And you will. When it's time. Don't you want to understand first? Why I brought you here?"

Furrowing her brows, Simmons tried to wrap her mind around what was happening and what she should do.

"The Monolith, it- it did.. something,” she explained, more to herself than to this… thing. “One minute I was in its room, next it moved and then I was here. Where am I?"

"In closed space and time. I wanted to talk with you."

"You did this?"

"Yes," the illusion was getting impatient. Or rather, it looked like it was getting impatient. "Could you listen for a second," it pleaded. "Instead of asking questions? Because then I have to answer them and I can’t explain. Besides you keep asking the wrong ones. I will explain, just let me."

Simmons glared at it with suspicion. She didn't want to let go of control and let this... illusion decide what they do and how the conversation goes, but she didn't really see another options.

"Okay," she agreed slowly, not letting her muscles relax even for a second, just in case she saw a chance to run.

"Let's start with the basics then,” the illusion said with a smile that looked like it was painted on its face - too bright with broken edges and completely still. “The Monolith is of Kree origin, its purpose is bending the space continuum. A very inelegant way of moving fast from one place to another. A teleport, as they call it in your science fiction works. Apart from the fact that it's not a fiction."

"So, you're Kree," Simmons nodded not moving her eyes away from this strange phenomenon.

The illusion tapped her foot on the absolute lack of anything that could make a sound, but it did anyway. It was hollow and fake and lacked any purpose.

"No, I'm not. I just used their device because it was close and handy."

"Why?"

"To bring you here." It sighed and Simmons again had a feeling that it was all just an exaggerated act, as if the illusion wanted to copy things that were normal human behaviour. It might have had all the right attributes, but it was just clearly not natural. There was no emotion hiding behind the gesture. "Monolith is a thing that was created to open a path that living creature could use to walk through space, without harm. I wanted to talk with you, but that's impossible for me in your world. So I opened a path from your place to here. Now we can talk."

"About what?"

"About _why_. I wanted to propose a deal that you might be interested in. In return for my help, you would help me."

"You help me how?" Simmons asked because she felt all kind if things and "helped" was not one of them. Neither was a will to help.

“By taking you here for example. I saved you.”

“What?!l" Simmons couldn't stop her surprised squawk."Yo-you kidnapped me! When everything was for once going well! You ruined it! I was supposed to go -”

“You were supposed to die," it cut her looking her straight in the eye. "In 11 days. Not only you. Fitz was supposed to die in three hours.”

”That’s not true!” she shouted but the illusion just rolled her eyes. Another show meant to affect her, but she was smarter than that.

Illusion looked at her, face a still mask of indifference.

Then Simmons was there. She was in a car with Fit, sitting on a passenger seat, wondering how she got there since just a second before she was in this strange place, wondering what’s the meaning of all this, wondering -

_wondering where Fitz was taking her and smiling with excitement mixed with joy so thoroughly that she couldn’t tell them apart._

_Fitz was sitting right next to her, eyes focused on the road but ever few minutes he stole a glance at her, a smile dancing on his lips and a sparkle of shy happiness in his eyes. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him, smiling like a 16 year old girl before her first date. In a way it was a first, because never before had she gone for a dinner with someone she was sure about, with someone she knew and who knew her, someone who was her best friend in the whole world. Someone so much more important than all those boring men she went out with in false hope that maybe this time she wouldn't be bored out of her mind by the end of the evening. The anticipation was making her feel a little light-headed and impatient at the same time, emotions twirling inside her and pushing the bright smile to her face that she couldn't and didn't want to hide. She reached for his hand laying on the gear shift and entwined her fingers with his. He let her, catching her fingers for a second before letting go and putting his hand back on the wheel and Simmons smiled in contentment. For once there was no fighting agencies, no traitors and aliens, no mysteries waiting for her answers. Just her and Fitz._

_And a sudden force that pushed her forward, crashing all around her with sharp bits of glass that brought darkness with them._

_Simmons opened her eyes and tried  to move, but her neck hurt and the pain in her temple was pulsing and changing into small explosions with each shift of muscles, her lungs burning with each shaky breath. Trying to pull herself up she laid her hand on the dashboard, feeling debris cutting into her skin. Moving her head to the left was harder than it would be to lift a car, but somehow she managed._

_“Fitz?” she whispered, trying to get his attention, but he was not moving, just lying still on the wheel, unconscious._

_Looking around as much as her achy bones let her, she hoped to find help. There was none to be seen, no ambulance, no people around, no vehicles. Nobody was there to see that they crashed somewhere in the suburbs, in the late evening. Nobody, but the person who crashed into them, but the driver or the vehicle was nowhere to be seen, clearly a hit and run. Except they had a car that was build for field missions, it shouldn’t break unless facing something equally strong. Hoping that S.H.I.E.L.D.’s emergency systems built into the car were still working and someone noticed the alert in the base, she pushed the button, just to be sure. The tiny light was blinking at her reassuringly and she turned back to unmoving Fitz and reached for him, shaking his arm, but his head just rolled limply._

_“Fitz,” she called him in weak voice, noticing that there was blood on his face, and there was something strange with the way he was laying, his neck twisted and his chest too still. She squeezed his arm until her knuckles became white, but he still hadn’t moved. “Fitz?” she tried again and her vision became blurred with unshed tears when facts and implications became harder to deny._

_“Fitz, wake up!” she shrieked at him, her throat tight, reaching for his neck and not feeling a pulse. Moving her shaking hand she tried to convince herself that she simply touched the wrong place, that she would feel the beat in just a second._

_She didn’t._

_“No, no, no, no,” she pleaded, pressing her hand harder under his collar. “Don’t leave me, Fitz, open your eyes!”_

_He didn’t and when in desperation she lightly covered his mouth and nose with her hand, there was no feel of air on her skin._

_Fitz was not breathing and there was nothing she could do about this except scream in pain and shake his body in vain hope that it was just a dream and they would both wake up._

It felt like waking up, the way Simmons’ eyes opened and the terrible vision was replaced by another one, while she was still feeling unreal with her mind fuzzy on the edge of two worlds. She was back, not where she wanted to be, but in this strange, alien and empty world with the enigma standing opposite her and looking at her with a poker face.

“This was already set in motion,” the illusion said. “The main variable is whether their car would turn left and what you’ve seen would happen, or turn right and get stuck in the traffic. Then they would arrive to the restaurant you would be in. Shooting would start, the two of you would escape back to the car, Fitz would get shot in his arm and they would still crash your car, during the chase. He would be dead on the spot, you would have broken ribs and die 11 days later on a field mission you were not psychologically ready for.”

“Who’s _‘they’_?” Simmons asked, still shaken by what she just saw.

“Hydra.”

“Why us?”

“Nothing personal. They wanted to send a message. You were close and easiest to find.”

“How can I know you are not lying?” Simmons asked, even thought every muscle and vein, every atom in her body was calmly stating that it was the truth.

“I’m incapable of lying. But I can’t prove it to you.” Another show, this time of a shrug with nothing behind it. “What you’ve seen is just a simulation, so of course slight deviations would happen. I can’t predict human behaviour to such extent, so I can’t guarantee that during the drive Fitz would turn his head to look at you after 76 seconds, but this seems as the most probable outcome, given his behaviour on previous dates. But I can guarantee with 98% probability that he would be laying this way after his death, give or take three millimetres.” This mask of a face, unmoved by any emotions was getting on Simmons’ nerves. As well as some other things she didn’t dare name.

“No. No, no, no.” She shook her head in disbelief. Those were all lies. “That’s not true. You’re just showing it to me to.. to manipulate me by affecting my emotions!”

“Well, yes, that was almost the most angsty version of future.”

“Almost?”

“There’s also the one where Hydra’s car doesn’t hit you. Instead they manage to shot Fitz in the head in the restaurant, just after they get in. Blood and tissue everywhere. I figured it would be a little too graphic for our first contact. I want us to be friendly, after all. Wouldn’t work well with showing you the head of a person you care about being blown.”

“You can’t know this.”

“I can,” the illusion stated as if that was the most obvious truth.

“It doesn’t have to happen,” Simmons pointed out, for a moment seeing a tiny light of hope. “If I go back I can just not go with him on this date, not today. We won’t get there and he won’t die. I can change this future now that I know about it.”

“You would still be supposed to die. Doomed, both of you. They will get to you in other way, sooner or later, that’s already set. But I can save you.”

“How? You’ve said it’s all done.”

“By removing you from that world for long enough. When you come back, you will both be safe. Out of harm’s way.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said, even though deep down she just knew that it was all truth.  “Why should I trust you?”

“I can’t give you reasons. That’s your choice. Would you risk it? Not only your life but also his? When you have a chance to prevent it?”

There was no answer to that. The simple one was easy - of course she would do everything to keep Fitz safe. But there were others. Should she trust a stranger and believe in what she saw? She needed more information before making a decision.

"I know it's a lot to take in.” For the first time illusion’s voice was not coldly calm. It sounded almost sympathetic, with no fake notes.”I know that it's hard and complicated and you need to think it through. You have time, it stands still in here. So you can think as long as you want and when you decide, it would be as if a minute has passed. You can stop it all anytime you want.”

“How?” she asked finally. “How would that happen? What do you want me to do?”

“Stay here for a while, as long as necessary. Then we will both get out. But you will let me control your body for two weeks. I have a mission to complete and I need a material form to do it. I don’t have one, but you do. We can share. I will do what I have to and after that I will go back.”

“I don’t like the idea.” Simmons furrowed her nose.

“I understand your concern. But that’s the only option for me.”

“How can I be sure you will leave? How can I know this is not a… a scam to take over forever?”

“Humans.” It sighed in response. “Always thinking that every other creature in the universe envies them and either plans their doom or wants to control them. Would you like to become a frog?”

“No,” Simmons denied with surprise.   
“See? I don’t want to limit myself and become a human either.”

It kind of made sense, Simmons had to admit. Why would some creature want to be someone else?

“Beside, I’m literally incapable of staying in material form for longer than 15 days. So? What do you say?”

Simmons was not ready. How could she ever be?

“What are you, really?”

“You don’t have words to express or describe my existence,” it said. ““I’m... If you think of the first law of thermodynamics. I’m making sure no energy is lost. That it’s moved to the place it should be in on the right time. But I failed. It's my fault that some things broke and are not working as they should, and I have to fix it. I could let it be and fix itself naturally, but if I do this, it would be faster and less people get hurt or unhappy in the process ”

“Why me? Why didn’t you take Fitz?”

“Because he will be able to take you out of the rock. You wouldn’t be. It’s more about mechanics than biochemistry. Also, you wouldn’t be able to figure it out in your current psychological state.”

“What?!”

“I’m sorry. You haven’t known?” The concern in its voice was truly genuine.

“I.. I’m not a.. a... I’m perfectly fine!”

“You are lost and you can’t fix yourself, not when you keep pretending everything’s fine. You are making mistakes and not recognising them. You are also doing good things and think that they were mistakes.”

“Like what?!” Simmons shouted in fury because whatever that was it didn’t have the right to judge her, not when it know nothing.

“Like what you’ve planned for Ward. You wanted to become a murderer. And you’ve killed an innocent without regret.”

“Innocent?” She laughed. “Bakshi was _hardly_ innocent! He was evil, he was torturing people and -”

“He was not judged or sentenced to death by anyone except you. And you have no right to do that.”

“He deserved that!”

“Maybe. But that’s not about him, it’s about you. You’ve killed. You planned to murder. Your life can’t focus on revenge. Whatever they did is irrelevant, they will pay in their time. As will you in yours. ”

“What about you?”

“Mine is close. That’s why I want to fix things while I still can.”

“By using me,” she pointed out, still angry.

“By making a deal. I save you. You let me walk on Earth for two weeks. In return you not only change the future, you will also have time to heal. To think and deal with what happened. You haven’t had even a second for that since you escaped the pod. And you need this.” The illusion moved closer, compassion written on its face. “I’m sorry it all turned out like this. I really am. So let me help you and help me in return.”

“There must be something else. Something I could do, that’s not…” Simmons waved her hand at the light in front of her with desperation, trying to hold back tears that were welling in her eyes. “Not this.”

“There’s another option, of course there is. You can go back now and tell Fitz that it was a mistake, that you haven’t thought and shouldn’t agree to that dinner. In result, he would would decline all his field missions in the immediate future and leave in three weeks. You won’t see him again for a long while. The probability of you dying in the next year will decrease to 63%, the probability of him dying will be only 47% and there will be a 15.1% probability that you will see him in the next nine years.”

Simmons nodded, her mind still uncertain and lost in this.

“You have to agree. I can’t do anything if you don’t agree. And if you at any moment want to stop and break the deal you can. I can’t do anything without your permission. So think about it.”

"What should I call you?" Simmons asked, trying to think about something else for a second and somehow deal with this... Creature. Seemed like a good idea given they could be stuck together for longer.

"Why would you call me?" illusion asked with a sincere surprise.

Apparently it didn't share Simmons’ idea of friendly coexistence.

"Illya." Simmons decided that she really didn’t want to dwell on it. "That's shorter than illusion. Sounds like a name. Feminine pronouns? Is that okay? Since you were looking like a girl?"

"Well, it's better than referring to me as "it", that's for sure," Illya shrugged. "And translating to your lexical limitations, yes, I am a girl type."

* * *

**_Present_ **

_“I really don’t understand what you are so angry about,”_ Simmons heard, or rather felt, Illya say.

 _“You didn’t told me it would be three months!”_ she hissed in her head, knowing that she would be heard.

_“I told you we would have to wait. I have limitations. I can only be out in the vessel for 15 days. I need to be out now. So we had to wait.”_

_“But I didn’t know it would be this long! Fitz thought I was dead!”_

_“But you are not. Both of you.”_ Simmons’ eyes moved without her will and she saw Fitz standing in the lab, working on something. _“He’s alive. Fine. He will be fine. So just let me do my thing, soon it will all be over.”_ Her eyes moved back to what Illya was doing.

 _“Could you…”_ Simmons started not sure if she should ask, but she decided to do this anyway. _“Could we look at him for a while longer?”_ She missed him, missed the ability to simply look at him as long as she wanted, move closer to him, brush his hand with her fingers when giving him something.

Her eyes rolled in her head when Illya once again surrendered to basic instincts and then moved back to Fitz.

 _“Just tell me how long,”_ she told Simmons.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turn left/right is a veeeery slight reference to Doctor Who episode “Turn Left” - you never know how much depends on a simple turn.  
> Also, this is fiction, please don't try it (by "it" I mean getting kidnapped by ancient monolith and making contracts with unidentified beings) at home and blame me for consequences later ;)
> 
> Thanks to [Lavendergaia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavendergaia/pseuds/Lavendergaia) and [theclaravoyant](http://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant) for helping me when I started panicking about warnings.
> 
> I'm writing this on borrowed laptop, if there's something wrong with the format, please send me a message on [my tumblr](http://aretsuna.tumblr.com).
> 
> Thanks for reading! Remember that there's a correlation between feedback and motivation ;)


	4. Jemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission, the ending and the fluff

_"Be very sure. This could be the real world."_

_"It can't be. Rory isn't here."_

_-the Doctor and Amy Pond, Doctor Who 5x07 “Amy’s Choice”_

* * *

Getting used to the fact that her body was not reacting to her commands, that someone else was giving orders and she had no say in it, was really hard at first. Hard and terrifying. There was nothing Jemma could do, nothing to keep her occupied, only her thoughts. At first she was just observing, trying to guess what was happening, trying to stop analysing everything she saw over and over everything, stop wondering if she’d made a good choice. Everything looked different now that she was back on Earth. he certainty she had back in the world the Monolith took her too, this absolute lack of doubt, disappeared the moment she was back in the Playground, no longer able to decide about her own body.

With time it got easier and less scary. There was still a part of Jemma that was terrified that all this would end with tragedy, that she missed something, that Illya was lying. When this panic hit her, she was finding peace in the fact that she hadn’t found any proof of that, that Illya did whatever asked of her, whether it was not letting Fitz kiss her or just moving her eyeballs in a certain direction. She found hope in the fact that Fitz was still alive and well and maybe she finally managed to help him somehow, save him from danger. She found calm in the glimpses she caught of his _not-so-secret-anymore_ project, the Blue Field that Illya admitted would force her out of this world. _If everything else fails,_ she thought, _Fitz won’t_.

Her relationship with Illya was strange to put it lightly, but with time Jemma found out that maybe she didn’t trust her, but she believed her. Without better ideas about how to kill  time, she decided to listen to the alien’s advice and enjoy the moment of unperturbed peace, use it to think about everything she didn’t have time for before. She didn’t need to worry anymore, because there was nothing she could do but wait. So she allowed herself the time to grieve for Trip, time to realise that her fear pushed her to treat Inhumans way too harshly, that somehow along the way after Ward betrayed them she lost her trust in people and became leery, that some of her actions were rushed and caused by anger and revenge instead of logic and good intentions. It was a long journey inside herself to make peace with her feelings, but for the first time ever, she had all the time she needed.

Illya didn’t have this privilege though, and she was working fast, probably hoping to make the most of what she was given. Jemma was curious about her plans, but she never asked, opting for just observing and trying to guess. Back in that strange world, when both of them met for the first time and she agreed to help, she hadn’t thought even for a second about Illya, too overwhelmed by visions of Fitz in danger and the doom that was looming over them. All she cared about was saving them, she couldn’t care less about what some alien wanted. Now it seemed too late to suddenly express her interest, so she was just watching how her body worked, mixing chemicals and testing hypotheses, never bothering to check the results. Jemma suspected that Illya knew exactly what they would be.

The time was passing and whatever this infamous mission was, it must have been coming closer. Jemma saw this in the way her hands clenched into fists, in the restlessness of her moves, in the sudden urgency of another and another experiment done after hours. Whatever Illya was preparing for would happen soon.

Seeing Mack in the med bay was like an icy shower. If Jemma had been the one making decisions the day before, he would probably be dead by now, having bled out in the field with no one to help him, because she would be too busy chasing her revenge. Knowing that showed her in a clear light that she indeed needed some time to see her actions in larger perspective. Illya shrugged off Fitz’s thanks and her own words like it was no big deal, nothing strange or worth dwelling upon when there was work to be done. Those last days were in a rush.

That’s why a whole hour spent outside of the base, looking at the sky and clouds, came to Jemma as such a surprise. Her body was just standing there, motionless, eyes glued to the endless blue.

 _“Why are we looking at the sky?”_ she finally broke under her curiosity. _“You like it?”_

_“It’s a message.”_

_“To whom?”_

_“To me.”_

_“What does it say?”_

_“That I have to go in four days. For the judgment.”_

_“Judgment?”_

_“Yes. To pay for what I’ve done.”_

_“You will be punished?”_

_“Probably.”_

_“What would happen if you don’t go?”_

_“What do you mean ‘don’t go’?”_

_“If you did not obey.”_

_“Why would I do such thing?”_

_“You said they will punish you.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Aren’t you scared?”_

_“Of course.”_

_“And yet you don’t want to run away? Even the tiniest bit?”_

_“That would be disobedient.”_

_“Exactly.”_

_“You don’t understand, Simmons. They will not haunt me. They will not search for me. They will not force me. There is no reason to. Because I will come when they call me. I will get exactly what I deserve. So, there’s no reason to be afraid or to run away. No reason to feel scared or lost or worry over what to do. I know who I am. I know what to do. What I will do is finish my plan and go there. Because I have faith in them and in me. Whatever will happen, everything will turn out all right. So don’t you worry about me, I will be fine.”_

* * *

There was a field misson on the next day. A mission Illya apparently knew about even before Coulson did, because she spent the whole previous evening preparing and packing things into her backpack. Vials with something Jemma couldn’t identify, even thought she was watching them being made for days, all secured in boxes without even a tiny label to tell them apart.

The mission was simple, they just had to collect some samples from a place where a new Inhuman was found. They were in the middle of a forest, near a small wooden lodge. Perfect place for a city break and relaxation, Jemma had to admit. Unfortunately the new Inhuman couldn’t enjoy its perks, not after he started freezing things with his touch. Now he was secured somewhere far away and it was up to them to figure out how exactly his ability worked. With the rest of the team leaving the science work to the two best scientists and promising to pick them up in an hour, Illya didn’t bother with pretending to be following the lab and field protocols anymore. She gathered only some of the materials she should have and Jemma could bet that she held _exactly_ what she needed in her hands, without any false leads. The good side of this was that she was done in five minutes.

“I have to go,” Jemma’s lips moved when the words spoken to Fitz were formed.

He looked up at her, furrowing his brows from where he was kneeling near to a fallen tree.

“Where?” he asked looking around.

“I have something to do. It’s time.”

“Now? Here?”

“Yes. It’s not far. I will be back in a moment.”

Fitz was silent for a moment, his face suspicious.

“Back to where? Here or somewhere… else?”

“Here and then somewhere else too.”

“I’m going with you,” he told her rising up.

“There’s no need.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he insisted coming closer.

Jemma’s heart swelled a little at his protectiveness and she wanted to hug him and soothe the wrinkles of worry on his face with her hand. Instead her arms shrugged, her hand gripped a strip of her backpack, her eyes focused on the narrow path behind the lodge and her legs carried her body away from him. Her ears heard his footsteps following her through the forest, always right behind her, close enough to react if anything happened.

The walk was not long, just a few minutes until they reached the end of their road. There was a stream in front of her, nothing big or extraordinary, but Illya moved closer to it with fast steps full of purpose. Sitting on the grass she took off her backpack and opened it, taking out the vials. All of them looked the same, but apparently were different, because each received different treatment: some were mixed, some were shaken, some were just laying there on the sun or in the shadow of the protective box. Then there was some waiting, some more shaking and mixing and finally some of them were emptied straight into the water. There was no reaction, nothing visible to tell them that something changed. But Jemma’s body relaxed when her eyes watched the water flowing forward, now with some new additions and unknown properties.

“My mission is complete,” she heard her voice.

There was silence and a delicate swoosh of leaves around them, the peaceful whirr of water.

“That’s it? All you had to do? Pour something into the water?” Fitz voiced the questions that formed in Jemma’s mind at the exact same moment.

“Yes. This will start the chain reaction. This will be enough,” her head nodded.

 _“Enough for what? What did you do to the water?”_ Jemma insisted.

Illya sighed and answered them both.

“The Inhuman you found today was eating fish oil from a place nearby. There will be a man coming to rest in this lodge tomorrow. He will go out in the evening for jogging, like he does everyday. He will get tired and drink the water from this stream. Then he will go back home and on his way buy some fish oil pills. This was not meant to be. If this man changes into Inhuman, he will be too powerful, too difficult to stop. He will kill people, three innocents. This was not meant to be. He was not meant to buy the pills here and eat them. But he would because of a mistake I made months ago. So I fixed it. I added the compounds to the water that will repel the ones responsible for activating alien DNA in Inhumans. His cells won’t change, his transformation won’t happen. Nobody will die because of me being careless.”

“That was your mission?” Fitz asked with disbelief. “To stop one person from transforming? That’s what you were preparing for the last two weeks?”

“Yes.”

“Because one person would change? Because three people would die?”

“Isn’t that enough of a reason?”

* * *

“That’s your third mint tea,” Fitz pointed out. “Jemma doesn’t really like that one.”

“I like the sensation it’s making on her tongue,” Illya responded with Jemma’s mouth, looking at him from where she stood next to the kitchen counter.

After Illya declared her mission completed, they went back to the Playground and she did everything Jemma was supposed to do. Then she went to the kitchen and started making one tea after the other, going back to her room with the steaming mug, siting on her bed and embedding her body with a blanket. At first she was just sitting there, looking at the wall and taking small sips but then she took Jemma’s phone and started playing music, swaying a little to the awful mix of pop songs and classic pieces. After a while Fitz noticed her walks back and forth from the room and came after her to solve this mystery. Now he was standing there, in the kitchen, looking uncertain about the whole situation.

Her head tilted when Illya was staring at Fitz and then her hand shot forward, catching Fitz’s wrist.

“Your skin is warm,” she said letting it go. “Simmons likes this feeling but I don’t find anything extraordinary in it. The mug is warmer as long as the tea is not staying there too long.”

Fitz’s eyes widen in surprise and he took one stumbling step back.

“O-Okay,” he stuttered, a hint of shock in his voice.

“I will be gone tomorrow,” she told him in an indifferent voice.

“I know. That’s what you kept saying from the beginning.”

Illya was silent for a moment, just looking at him and then she pressed Jemma’s lips into a thin line and nodded twice.

“Right,” she said. “Did you want something?”

“Just checking if everything’s all right.”

“Everything is going according to the plan.”

“Right. Yes. So, maybe I’ll- I’ll go now.”

“If that’s what you wish.”

Apparently it was, because Fitz left and soon Illya followed his footsteps out of the kitchen. After a while they were back in Jemma’s room, sitting on her bed, but this time Illya took a sip and turned her laptop on, only to start looking through Youtube in search for some tutorials.

 _“Ballet dancing?”_ Jemma asked in surprise.

_“It’s the one type that doesn’t need a partner, right? I doubt Fitz would agree to dance with me.”_

_“But why would you even do this? You need it for some other mission?”_

_“Of course not, what kind of mission would that be? I’m done. I just want to dance. It seems like a nice activity I would like to try while I still can. It's my funeral after all."_

_"Funeral?"_ Jemma squeaked in surprise.

_"Isn't this what you do for people who move from the material world?"_

_"You will die?"_

_"I can't die I don't have a body."_ Her eyes rolled when Illya answered.

_"Then why are you calling this a funeral?"_

_"Because that’s what it is! I might not be human but I fulfill the conditions. I will move. There will be things I will miss, but I will not be missed. I am not a part of this world and everything in here wants me out. Nobody will do a funeral for me so I will do it for myself while I still have time."_

For the first time since the start of their deal, Jemma thought about what would happen with Illya after their arrangement would be over. What did she even know about her?

 _"This judgment…”_ she started. _“What will happen to you?"_

_"What I deserve. I’ve told you, I have to pay for what I've done."_

_"But you said you fixed it."_

_"I did. But I took control of a body of a sentient being. This is a crime."_

_"You did it to help. You've said that you saved three people."_

_"Five if we count you and Fitz too. This will be taken into consideration. Don't worry, I will get exactly what I deserve. I fixed what I could."_

_"You will go back to the empty world we met in?"_

_"No. That was just a linked dimension. One in which we were able to meet. I will go back to where I belong."_

_"Won't you be lonely there?"_ Jemma asked remembering the empty world and not able to recall any time in which Illya would refer to anyone else apart from people around them.

_"I am lonely now. I was never before. Are you lonely?"_

_"I miss Fitz,"_ Jemma admitted, surprised that somehow this conversation was again about her. _"Not like miss him because he's far away, but miss him because I can't come closer. I can't even hug him."_

_"Do you want to?"_

Jemma didn't answer because what was the point? Soon it would be over. Tomorrow Illya would leave and she would be free.

 _“Well, more physical contact it is then,”_ Illya said while twisting her face with minor disgust.

They went to Fitz's room and knocked and Illya gave an explanation that was so clinical and cold that it would ruin even the most romantic of moods, but then she let go for a moment, long enough for Simmons to hug Fitz and it was awkward and over too soon, but it reminded Jemma of what it felt like to just be able to act on her feelings, something she denied herself long before Illya made it impossible. Maybe there was more truth in “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone” than she gave it credit for.

When they came back to her room the tea was cold already.

* * *

There was no packing this time. Illya just woke up, did Jemma’s morning routine, ate a healthy breakfast, drank five more mint teas which made Jemma wonder how they even fit in her stomach, then ate some chips and fruits and ice cream and danced in her room for two hours. The whole time Jemma debated with herself whether she should ask or not, but time was running short and soon the opportunity would be lost forever.

 _“Illya,”_ she started when her body made another sloppy pirouette.

_“What?”_

_“About these… compounds you’ve made, the ones that stopped Inhuman transformation? Could you tell me how to do this?”_ Jemma tried when her body didn’t stop but did something she recently discovered was called “arabesque”.

_“No.”_

_“It’s too advanced for this world?”_ she tried with the explanation she heard once already.

_“No, it’s perfectly within your current level. But I won’t give it to you. The problem with mass Inhuman transformation was caused by human actions, not by my mistakes. So it’s up to you to find a solution for this. I cleaned my mess, you have to deal with yours.”_

_“So, there’s no way for me to convince you to help with that?”_

_“No way at all. Probability is a solid 0. But you tried your best.”_

Jemma watched in silence as Illya forced another not so fluid move out of her body.

 _“Won’t my muscles be sore after all this exercising?”_ she complained. _“They seem too advanced for a beginner.”_

_“No they won’t. I calculated everything, your body can handle it. Don’t worry I will return it in excellent shape. Better than it was when I got it, just for the record. Running a few times per week wouldn’t hurt you, you know. It's up to you to take care of your mind though. You know what you want to do after I'll leave? You've made peace with everything?"_

_"Yes, I think so. I had a lot of time for thinking and contemplation after all."_

_"Good. Don't blow it then. Don't let yourself get stuck in that place you've been in."_

_"It wasn't so bad,"_ she tried to defend herself, even though she knew it was. She was trapped in a place where she hadn't allowed herself a proper rest or a proper clearance of air and closure. Pushing herself over her limits, trying to break them and not allowing any time to catch her breath, too concerned about everything to let herself take care of her own peace of mind.

_“Just, you know, try to not complicate things again. Don’t hesitate, don’t walk around avoiding rash moves and waiting for the perfect time. It doesn't exist. You have your chance now, don’t waste it.”_

Somehow hearing Illya point it out and realising that soon it would finally be the time for changing her relationship with Fitz to something new and unknown, filled Jemma with surprising insecurity.

 _“What should I do?”_ she asked Illya. _“What should I tell him?”_

 _"You are aware that my natural form of communication is_ telepathic _? Don't ask me what to_ say _."_

* * *

In the evening, when all the others finished with their work and moved back to their rooms, Jemma found herself in the lab looking at Fitz when Illya tried to explain to him that they needed to let the Monolith swallow Jemma again. Fitz was not amused by the idea, to put it lightly.

“Simmons will be perfectly safe,” Illya tried to convince him. “I need to go back and open a portal to a world where we can separate. It is the best way. It will take just a few seconds. You will not even notice that her body was gone for a moment.”

“There must be some other way. I’m not letting that thing kidnap her _again_.”

“There are other ways, but this one is the most optimal for both of us. Fastest and the safest one. You know how to open the portal after all. You’ve done this before.”

"How would I know you are gone and it's her again?"

"The same way you knew I'm not her, I guess?"

It took a while, but finally he agreed and they all went to the Monolith’s room. There was no real security, just the glass cage it was always in. Coulson had thought everyone would be smarter than coming close, which just made things so much easier for them.

It was strange, letting the Monolith swallow her, the muscles in her body lax and not reacting to her basic instinct screaming to run away. There was a blink of the empty world she recognised and an overwhelming feeling of relief, a whisper of _"You did good, kid. Everything will be all right,"_ that was not meant for her and a _"Bye, take care,"_ that definitely was.

Then she was back, simply as that.

She swayed a little, getting used to being in full control again. She looked around, not even noticing that she ordered her eyes to move, easily falling back into the natural routine of being in her own skin.

Her eyes caught sight of Fitz and she smiled before she could even think about it.

"Fitz," she said coming closer, her voice free and full of happiness.

"You're back, Jemma?"

"Yes," she said and reached for him. "Yes, I am."

She caught him and hugged him, this time knowing that there would be no nagging voice telling her to stop, that she could do this as long as she wanted and as long as he let her. Judging by how he clung to her desperately, that would last a while.

"What the hell, Jemma?" he said, pushing her lightly away, so he could look her in the eye.

"What?" she asked, not understanding what caused this sudden change.

"What was all that? What happened? Why? Is it gone for good?"

"Oh," she whispered, realising that while she had all the answers, he had just spent two weeks hanging on the little information she managed to give him in two minutes, back when he figured out something was wrong.

"Yes, she's gone for good. Could we - could we maybe go somewhere else? I'll explain everything to you, but this Monolith is still kind of creeping me out."

He nodded and they went to the kitchen, where Jemma declined to drink tea and opted for making sandwiches for both of them instead.

Telling him what happened was easier than making him understand, and so much easier than convincing him it was a good choice. Repeating that she was trying to keep him safe, both of them even, was not working as well as she thought it would.

"Jemma you let some alien take over your body. Just because, luckily, it was not an evil alien doesn't change the fact that it was purely insane."

"Yeah, now that I think of it I was pretty messed up back then. Even Illya said that." She tried to lighten the mood, even though deep down she knew he was right. If the roles were reversed she would be furious at him for agreeing to something so risky too.

“What about Illya? What happens with her?”

“She will be fine.”

“How do you know?”

“She told me. And she’s really good with probability, plus, she can’t lie. She will be fine.”

“Never again, Jemma.” He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I mean it. Don’t you ever do something so reckless again.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” She nodded. “But it actually did me good,” she pointed out, but he just shook his head with tired disbelief. “I'm better now. I had time to deal with things I kept pushing away for way too long, and now I know I can't keep doing this all the time. Bottling things up doesn't solve anything.”

“Well, this is actually a good conclusion.”

“I mean it, Fitz,” she said.

“No more taking risks like that. No more trying to hold everything in.”

“I know.” She nodded, putting her hand on his arm and stroking it lightly.

“You know I’m always here if you need me. All you need to do is ask.” He looked at her, his eyes pleading her to do something, to accept his support when he wanted nothing more than to give it to her. “Always.”

“I know.” She moved closer and put her head on his arm. “I know Fitz.”

He put his arms around her, stroking her back a little, and for a moment she let herself simply enjoy the peace of the two of them together, with no problems and no worries to spoil their moment.

“I liked the restaurant,” she murmured into his shirt.

“Huh?”

“The one you took me to? Last week? I liked it.”

“Oh.” He nodded a little and she felt him move his face a little closer, his breath in her hair.

“And their risotto was delicious,” she continued moving slowly until her cheek was touching his neck. “I’d really love to try their lasagna,” she pointed out.

“You would?”

“Mhm.” She nodded. “Sometime soon.” She smiled.

“Well, can’t keep a lady waiting then.” He chuckled and moved away. “I’ll make a call and check when they are available.” He smiled at her and in a second was gone, her arms suddenly cold and empty.

Apparently Fitz hadn’t gotten any better at noticing subtle hints and reading the mood, but well, she had all the time to teach him. And she intended to enjoy every second of it.

They didn't kiss then like she wanted to, but they got a reservation for the next night and spent the next day stealing glances and smiles like a pair of teens. Jemma spent _hours_ letting her head turn to the sound of his voice, letting  her eyes follow his movement, her hands brush his over the lab table, letting her legs move closer to him and inhale his scent. Finishing the work in the lab for a day never made her happier, since after that Fitz picked her up looking even more handsome than usual and they went on a proper date, and they were talking and joking and smiling at the other and giving each other sweet looks for the whole evening.

Then they went back to the Playground and Fitz walked her back to her room like the proper Scottish gentleman he was, which made her heart swell with warmth. The moment they reached her door she caught his tie, went on her toes and kissed him before he had time to even think about saying “ _goodnight_ ” to her, lips crushing his without any subtlety, but she couldn’t care less at the moment because it would really be against all probability for her to wait any second longer.

He seemed surprised with her sudden boldness, but didn’t protest in the slightest, instead responding with lovely touches of his lips moving and caressing hers, one hand smoothing her cheek and hair while circling his other arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She smiled against his lips and he did the same when she ran her hand along his chest, feeling the shape of lean muscles under the smooth fabric of his shirt. They broke the kiss and stood there, his arms holding her, her hands tangled into his shirt and tie, both looking in each other’s eyes like they were the most amazing thing, holding the key to the mysteries of the universe. It was quiet and peaceful and Jemma could spend forever drowning in the blue of Fitz’s eyes and tracing the designs on his tie with her fingertips like it was her only anchor keeping her from getting lost in him.

“I really like that restaurant,” she told him with a content smile.

“I know.” He grinned at her, pleased with himself. “It really is a good place.”

“The very _best_ place.” She nodded. “After all, it’s a place I went for the first date with the best man in the world. Everyone around was envious.” She smirked.

“Yeah, but they were envious of me.” He smirked back. “Because I was the lucky one to be there with you.”

She rolled her eyes because that was lame, but also sweet and cute and romantic and just so _Fitz_ that she couldn’t help her joyful grin from getting even wider.

“Really?” She teased.

“Really. I have to keep my eye on you so nothing steals you again.” He kissed her temple lightly.

“I won’t let it,” she promised him. “But this place was really great. Just for the record.”

Fitz furrowed his brow like always when it dawned on him that some words might have a deeper meaning.

“You want to go there tomorrow?” He tried to guess, and she had to admit that he was clueless while brilliant and adorable and really, it was obvious that everyone should have been envious of _her_ in that place.

“No,” she assured him. “I have two weeks backlog of TV shows,” she laughed. “Illya wouldn’t watch anything, not even the news.”

“Well, that’s just irresponsible,” he huffed.

“I guess she didn’t need it, what with always knowing everything.” She rested her head on his shoulder.

“We have to fix this.” Fitz nodded with determination.

“Together?” She looked up at him with a playful smile.

“Of course. That’s the best way.” He looked down at her. “TV marathon this evening?”

She smiled at him so brightly, because who cared that movie marathons were not in first date protocols, they were Fitzsimmons, and it worked for them.

“I’d love that,” she whispered looking straight into his amazing eyes.

It took them just a few minutes, setting the room for a movie night, their movements trained by years of experience, each of them knowing their place and tasks. It was all just the same as always, except now they were sitting just a tiny bit closer, their touches just a little bit bolder and caressing, the atmosphere slightly more cozy and both of them cuddled a little less innocently. It felt warm and safe and snug and just right, just as it should be.

"Fitz?” she murmured from his arm, feeling the need to tell him something, something meaningful. “I could live without you."

"What?"

She saw in his face that he didn't understand, for the split second thinking it was a rejection. Silly sweet man.

"I said back in the pod that I couldn't live without you, but that's not true,” she tried to explain. “I could. I can. I did in Hydra and inside the Monolith for months. Illya would calculate this as high probability. I could survive this and I could live. But I don't _want_ to. Because that would be a nightmare, so I don't want to. _I don’t want to live without you._ And I don't mean only without you alive.... I mean without you _close_. Not in the physical sense but in... In all senses. I don't want to have to deal with you being anywhere else than close. Not ever.”

Fitz looked at her with understanding flashing in his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said and smiled slightly. “Me neither.” He kissed her temple and she caught his hand moving his arm to circle around her tighter, moving her head to kiss his jaw and falling back into his loving embrace.

“Do you think Coulson would give us a vacation?” She asked. “I think we could really use it. Like a month of it. We could go visit this lab you opened when I was gone and you weren’t working for S.H.I.E.L.D. for a moment? Do some travelling, sight seeing?” He was silent for a moment so she just continued. “Or we could just stay in some chalet for weeks, I’ve heard they had a lot of really charming ones in Tyrol.”

“Yeah, sounds like a dreamy plan.” He nodded and she cuddled closer.

There was no need for big words, because they knew. There was no need to rush because they had all the time and _a whole world_ to experience together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that the story is over! It was supposed to be max 8k words, but well, at least I managed to follow the plan with the number of chapters :) I just wanted to say that I had an idea of Simmons going through Monolith again before it became a deal in the show, but when I saw her talking about having to come back I was all “yeah, that fits”. The ending I planned first was far less fluffy, but I thought that what we all need now is some fluff, so here it is!
> 
> As always, huge thanks to my beta readers [TheLateNightStoryTeller](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLateNightStoryTeller) and [amandajoyce118](http://archiveofourown.org/users/amandajoyce118) who really helped me a lot, I wouldn’t be able to do this without you two (and look at all this grammar and those commas!) 
> 
> Thank you all for reading :) Just a reminder that feedback is a ray of sunshine so drop one if you have a moment, it will made my day for sure ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to [TheLateNightStoryTeller](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLateNightStoryTeller) and [amandajoyce118](http://archiveofourown.org/users/amandajoyce118) for beta reading and all their help.


End file.
